


Drabbles

by Frangipanidownunder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 08:28:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20812094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frangipanidownunder/pseuds/Frangipanidownunder
Summary: 100 word drabble prompts.





	1. Sober

The place is lighter than expected. No shadows to hide in. His heart skitters and he thanks the gods of anatomy for a good, strong ribcage. All he needs now is to find where he left his good, strong bravado. A throwaway line way back when has landed him here. Life sometimes has a habit of coming back to haunt you. He just hopes that flukeworm isn’t out for revenge.

“I’m too sober for this,” he says, with a quarter turn of his chin, finding her passive expression slipping to intimidating.

The tattooist pats the bed. Scully folds her arms.


	2. Arachnaphobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I need a place to stay.” and “I swear, I’m not crazy!!!”

She touched his forehead. Again. It wasn’t hot. His pupils weren’t dilated. It seemed to be Mulder, resting his non-fevered brow on his forearm against her door jamb.

“I need a place to stay, Scully. Please.”

He’d shaved recently; well, half-shaved, one side of his jaw still peppered. “I swear, I’m not crazy.”

“So you keep saying.” She eyed his chin. He scratched at the stubbled side.

“I got, uh, distracted.”

“By a tarantula, Mulder?”

“In my bathroom sink. Theraphosa blondi, the goliath birdeater, legspan to rival Miss World, courtesy of a neighbour and his failure to secure his tank.”


	3. Kindred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s your turn to make dinner.” and “You smell like a wet dog.”

“It’s your turn to make dinner,” she tells Mulder, whose towel is wrapped precariously around his hips. His groan is matched by the dog, relegated to his basket, by the fire.

“C’mere boy,” Mulder says, patting his thighs.

“I wouldn’t,” she says but Mulder is like the dog, always ready to play, and always oblivious to its appropriateness.

Atticus launches. In a flurry of fur, limbs and grey cotton, they roll around. “You didn’t tell me you’d bathed him!”

Scully laughs as Atticus lays his head on Mulder’s chest.

“Kindred spirits,” she says. “You smell like a wet dog, too.”


	4. Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Take off your shirt."

“Take off your shirt.” It’s an order. A vague buzz in his groin starts. But the clamouring in his head is louder. There’s a palm flat to his chest. Pillows nestle around his head. He’s floating away. It feels good, being this comfortable. Letting go.

“Am I dead?” he thinks.

The voices bay.

Death isn’t quiet, then. It’s noisy. It’ll never let him rest in peace.

“Help me, Fox.” Hands work at his belt. His own fingers feel fat and useless. Cold air washes over his uncovered legs. He shudders, catching the crooked mouth smiling.

Death is a cruel bitch.


	5. Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Come with me."

“Come with me.”

Is this still their life? Science and rationalism counterbalanced with mystery and possibility. Together they were a strong unit. But fractured halves sometimes don’t meet in the middle.

“I didn’t want you to see this…I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

A tornado has swept through, upending his drawers, balling his linen on the bed. Underwear, shirts, books strewn over the floor.

He may not have wanted her to see this, but he needed her to. He slips down the wall.

She kneels, the swell of her abdomen pressing at his heart.

This is their life now.


	6. Einstein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Can I kiss you?"

In the way that dates used to play out, he offers to drive her home. She accepts.

“When you said home, Mulder, I assumed you meant my hotel.”

“Didn’t Einstein say ‘assumptions are made and most assumptions are wrong?’”

She hangs back at the top step. “He also said insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Is this madness?”

“Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow?” He dips his head. “Can I kiss you, Scully?”

She snuffs, tilts up her chin. “I think you can.”

So he does. And he does.


	7. Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're mine. I don't share."

“You’re mine. I don’t share.”

It just slips out. Hangs in the space between their mouths. She starts, pulls her lips away from his jaw. His fingers unwind from her hair and embarrassment replaces shock.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “That didn’t come out right. I meant…”

She drops away, onto her back and he traces the contour of her breast, nipple still erect. 

“I meant…that you mean everything to me.”

She softens, smiles, forgives. She lets him touch her. Lets him kiss her. Pulls his head down as he licks and grazes her with his teeth.

“Harder,” she says and surprise thrums through him. “Bite harder.”

He starts, pulls his mouth away. “Are you sure?”

“We all have our darker sides, Mulder.”


End file.
